


love me while your wrists are bound

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: Bondage, Bottom Craig Tucker, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Face Slapping, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Polyamory, Sloppy Seconds, Threesome - M/M/M, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 23:49:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20497400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: As though their stardust had been conceptualized from the very same source a million lightyears ago, Craig and Tweek have been flagrantly in love for as long as anyone who has ever known them can dare to remember. Before the thought of a Craig or a Tweek was even a seed planted in the heads of unsuspecting young adult minds, the explosion of some far off planet may have written their love in the stars, scribed their futures into the very structure of the universe. You could not say that they always madesense,but something about the two of them was simplyright.No known scientific or man-made law could have changed this fact; Craig and Tweek were always meant to just be Craig&Tweek, individuals come together to create something unshakable, something no outside force could dare to intervene.But, as most things in the universe, things are ever-shifting. Changing, hurdling towards some undefined inevitability.That inevitable end is Craig&Tweek&Kenny.





	love me while your wrists are bound

**Author's Note:**

> written for day 3 of bottom craig week, the theme of the day being "dress up." this focuses less on the act of dressing up, and more on the fact that craig is a wet dream in lingerie. i covered... several of the nsfw prompts in this because i couldn't just pick one to do. i wanted to be indulgent, which i feel is incredibly clear, considering i chose to write over 6k of my ot3, which gets hardly any love. 
> 
> also, i'm aware that this is *technically* a day early, but i have to work all day tomorrow and felt the itch to go ahead and get this published before i can get distracted and forget about it entirely. 
> 
> the show must go on.

★

As though their stardust had been conceptualized from the very same source a million lightyears ago, Craig and Tweek have been flagrantly in love for as long as anyone who has ever known them can dare to remember. Before the thought of a Craig or a Tweek was even a seed planted in the heads of unsuspecting young adult minds, the explosion of some far off planet may have written their love in the stars, scribed their futures into the very structure of the universe. You could not say that they always made _sense,_ but something about the two of them was simply _right._ No known scientific or man-made law could have changed this fact; Craig and Tweek were always meant to just be Craig&Tweek, individuals come together to create something unshakable, something no outside force could dare to intervene.

But, as most things in the universe, things are ever-shifting. Changing, hurdling towards some undefined inevitability.

The pretty pink tip of Tweek’s tongue pokes out between his lips in concentration, hands unusually steady as they give the red rope so precisely wrapped around Craig’s wrists a stern tug. Kenny watches closely as Tweek nods at his handiwork, deeming it tight enough, before he glances up at Kenny pointedly.

“You have to, ah, make sure that the bonds are strong enough, otherwise he’ll be able to wriggle his way out of them.” His hands roll in a vague gesture, urging Kenny to see for himself. Kenny does, tugging at the lurid rope to test the strength of it, eyebrows raising nominally. It’s a good knot, well-practiced, impossible to escape from but not impossible to untie quickly, should a safeword be dropped and an out needed. Tweek grins at the impressed look on Kenny’s face, panning his eyes down to look at his – their? – boyfriend. “Good?”

Craig, spread out on the bed beneath them like a victory prize, jerks his head once in affirmation. His eyes can’t keep still, cobalt flickering between the two blondes hovering over him, one on each side, and he is sporting a healthy flush. It flows down the tanned skin of his chest before dipping under the lacy straps of the cupless pink teddy contrasting so nicely against his dark complexion. Weaves of intricately sewn lace cover his torso straight down to the crotch cut-out that still has Kenny right on the edge of his proverbial seat. The brazen way Craig had sauntered out of the bathroom earlier, hips swaying cockily, the lean lines of his body dressed up so wonderfully in pink lace and red frills on every edge of him, tight garters keeping thigh highs firmly in place, all etched into Kenny’s mind.

Even now, Kenny had no idea that anyone could look this beautiful tied to a hand-me-down king sized bed that creaks with every movement, but Craig makes it work for him. Owns it like a throne, him in his stupid fucking lingerie, perhaps because he has been in this same place a thousand times before. It is bizarre being welcomed into this world that Kenny does not belong to. The curtain has not gone down on the Craig&Tweek show, but they have given him this shiny new starring role, invited him into their bedroom and, much more importantly, into their lives.

Because much like no one can remember a time before Craig and Tweek, Kenny cannot remember a time before he had pined for them. Always watching them from afar, wishing, for the longest time, that he could have what they had, until realizing he didn’t just want what they had. He wanted _them._ Both of them. Now that he has them, he isn’t sure what to do with the fragility of it in his hands. But he is positively drunk on the power of it, of being wanted by them. Since the very moment they had first propositioned him with the opportunity to be part of this, he has been delirious with happiness, and he wants to hazard the hope that it isn’t just about the sex.

There has been an entire _courting_ process, if Kenny absolutely had to put a term to it. Not that he has much frame of reference for anything of the sort – there had never been any wooing in his past “relationships,” if you could even call them that. There had never been any nervous handholding, or flowers being brought to him at work by a grumbling, embarrassed potential lover who just wanted to do right by him, or “good morning” texts overflowing with ironic emojis.

It is all so new, so foreign, so absolutely fucking wonderful, and Kenny has decided that he never wants to lose it. This is his for keeps, no takebacks.

With a gentle nudge, Craig draws him back into focus. He zeroes in on the pupil-blown eyes staring up at him with such fixed interest, beseeching his gaze, demanding his attention with no sly amount of need.

“Are you okay?” Craig asks, voice a cracked mess of dry disuse. The recollection of Tweek mentioning before that Craig is quiet before, but not during, tickles the back of Kenny’s mind. According to Tweek, during, Craig is a whiny, loud, unabashed creature that inhabits fully the pleasure he takes. He’d fired off the long list of things that Craig likes – bondage, spanking, being fucked completely raw, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, marking, slapping, having his hair pulled, on top of a dozen other things that only make Kenny more hard just thinking about. A slow breath eases its way out through his nose in his attempt to stay cool, calm, and collected. He places a delicate hand on Craig’s flank, rubbing his fingers over the fabric there.

“Yeah,” He says. Then, with more conviction, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“It’s alright if you aren’t.” Tweek chimes in, reaching over Craig’s body to put his hand on Kenny’s bare back, right between his shoulder blades. His skin is cold as always, a soothing touch to Kenny’s body, which might as well be going up in flames. Kenny looks at him. His expression is soft, green eyes easy and crooked smile gentle, and Kenny knows that if he really wanted to stop, they would, and nothing would be weird. They would all get up and go out into the living room to curl up on the couch that’s barely big enough for two people, let alone three, and Craig would make them watch one of his dumb space documentaries until they all passed out.

The thought settles him, puts his mind at ease, but Kenny doesn’t want to stop. Has wanted nothing more than to do this since he’d shown up at their apartment in the early afternoon for lunch, with his overnight bag just as Tweek had requested he bring. The desire thrumming through his veins is second to none, consumingly paramount, so he makes this known by bridging over Craig to put both of his hands on Tweek’s face. He tugs him in for a filthy, wet kiss, all tongue and teeth, open mouthed, Tweek’s surprise a breath lost to the adorably quiet moan he releases into Kenny. A curse resonates from below them, Craig’s socked toes curling in the sheets, the act of their kiss unfolding before him in high definition.

Putting a scarce space between them, Kenny says, “I’m not backing out, dude,” and enjoys it immensely when all Tweek can manage is a dazed nod, unfit to argue and clearly at a loss for words. The cry of the headboard as Craig gives his wrists a severe yank, coupled with his impatient grunt, reminds the two of them that they aren’t alone. Not that there had ever been any confusion.

“Can you _please_ not fucking forget that I am right here, tied to the bed, waiting to be fucked.” And Kenny has half a mind to argue that how could _anyone_ forget that when Craig is so goddamn obnoxiously put out by not having their attention for an iota of a second, but bites down on his tongue before he can spout a teasingly scathing remark. The nasally cadence of his voice is followed up with a scowl, and Christ, Tweek was not fucking around when he had proudly and somewhat exasperatedly called Craig a brat before. Kenny cannot conjure up a single word to better describe the brunette, with the way he cants his chin in pouty askance. Eyes roll as Kenny leans down to oblige him, though maybe he shouldn’t be giving in to such a childish display. After all, there are more polite ways to ask for attention, but all rational though is abandoned in the favor of kissing Craig Tucker.

Craig kisses exactly the way Kenny always imagined he would, the shadow of his aggression and temper reaching even this regard of him. There is no playing fair in the war that they wager, lips biting down on Kenny’s lips to make him gasp, to force his mouth open, Craig wasting no time in pressing his tongue to Kenny’s in a dirty show of desperation. Slyly, one of Craig’s legs comes up to wrap around Kenny’s hips, giving a sharp tug that sends Kenny careening all the way down towards Craig’s prostrate form. He only just barely manages to catch himself on his forearms, hissing his discontent right into Craig’s smirking mouth, letting the noise be swallowed up whole. Tweek snorts a laugh, his hand rubbing down each and every knob of Kenny’s spine.

It would do him no good to fight the current, so Kenny allows himself to be bracketed by Craig’s gartered thighs, drawn in by them to a point of discombobulating madness when his cock presses against the wet heat of Craig’s exposed opening. A stuttering moan punches its way out of him, urgency renewed as he ruts forward in search of friction, pulling away from the searing kiss to mumble a frantic, “Fuck.”

With his nose pressed to Craig’s cheek and every breath he takes tumbling its way out of him, never enough oxygen to fully expand his lungs, Kenny feels Tweek at his back, pressed along the length of him. His calloused hands are gentle on Kenny’s hips, thumbs rubbing over the dimples on his back affectionately. The headboard screeches at them as Craig tries to pull his wrists free, and Tweek tuts at him.

“Stop that.” The warning tone of his voice blares with power, with control, and Kenny lifts his head just enough to peer at the insolent look on Craig’s face, knowing it will be there. A complete, total fucking brat.

“And if I don’t?” Another tug, deliberate this time, and at Kenny’s back Tweek is silent. So silent that Kenny is completely caught off guard by the hand that is suddenly right there, rearing back to slap Craig clean across the face with a crack that washes the whole room in delicious tension. Kenny feels about as shocked as Craig looks, but the whimpering moan he lets out as Tweek grabs him by the jaw and forces his head right again is telling. He seriously likes this. He likes this so fucking _much._

“Don’t _test_ me, Craig.” If there had ever been any question about who’s really in charge here, there isn’t anymore; with both of Tweek’s hands on Kenny’s hips again, he is guiding Kenny forward, ever the conductor. Craig’s body will sing, but only at Tweek’s behest, and even Kenny is coming to the understanding that as much as he is being allowed to have Craig, _Tweek_ is the one calling the shots.

In no manner of speaking could Kenny have ever chalked these two up to be as kinky as they are. Even on the nights when Kenny had been fucking into the tightness of a fist around his dick, dreaming of what it would be like to fuck either of them until they were crying, he had never given them this much credit. Now, all he can really think about is what it might be like to have Tweek fuck _him_ until he cries, until his lips are stained red with blood and his voice is dripping with praise and begging for release. It’s something he’ll have to ask for on another occasion, if there is one, because the mental image of that…

A chill rolls down Kenny’s spine.

He doesn’t notice that he has been mindlessly rolling his hips against Craig until Craig gives a particularly hard thrash of his own, careful not to jerk his bindings too much, lest he wants more pain on the already smarting skin of his cheek. A litany of pleading rises to caress the shell of Kenny’s ear.

“Please,” Craig begs, over and over, voice shattered with wanton need as he lifts his hips in futile, aborted movements. If he could get even so much as just the tip inside of him, he might be okay, but Kenny’s refusal to indulge him is not out of some sick satisfaction of his own as he watches Craig writhe under him. Rather, he doesn’t want to find out what would happen if he tried to do _anything_ without Tweek’s permission at this point.

“Kitten,” The teasing purr of Tweek’s voice is a thrilling switch from the absolute feral rage, with no effort at all, the ghost of a laugh covering those two syllables he utters in their fair share of condescension. A hand leaves the warmth of Kenny’s back bereft, rubbing up the top of Craig’s right leg. Tweek pauses his ascent to walk his fingers slowly, tantalizingly, up the last bit of spaces towards the strap of the garter. Delicately, cruelly, Tweek plucks it – and lets it snap back down to meet sensitive skin. The sound of it slices through the charged air like a knife through butter, barely audible over the tempered moan that shudders out of Craig as Tweek lilts, “Do you want Kenny to fuck you, you filthy little _slut?”_

The whole bed moves at the vicious nodding of Craig’s head. On either side of Kenny, he can feel Craig’s legs twitching and shaking, held still by sheer willpower alone. Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows the excess saliva in his mouth, which waters over the sight of Craig’s crazed and deranged expression, Kenny is floored by how far gone Craig can be after practically nothing. Is he always like this, so easy to work up, to work over? After nothing but being tied up and verbally toyed with, Kenny can feel the physical evidence of Craig’s arousal beginning to slick his entrance, right where Kenny rests.

There is a very dangerous addiction to be found in this kind of experience, and Kenny already craves so much _more. _Just what has he gotten himself into?

He doesn’t have the time to properly ponder. Tweek’s hands come back to tug him away from the encasement of Craig’s legs, and Kenny lets their places be swapped without putting up any semblance of a fight. Tweek takes that newly vacated spot while Kenny sits back on his haunches, scooting out of the way to give Tweek the room he seems to demand be his. Craig looks up at his boyfriend, wrecked, eyes completely swathed in black, all the way to the outer ring of his irises.

“What if I don’t want to let Kenny have you just yet?” Craig appears hostile at Tweek’s words, but the look is ripped clean off his face in the wake of a keening moan, eyelids fluttering, lashes fanning down over his cheeks as his back arches and his head tilts back in between the cradle of his raised arms. Kenny’s eyes chase down the fabric on his body to find the source of the shift in Craig’s demeanor, two of Tweek’s fingers pressed into Craig’s shaking body, all the way up to the last knuckle. Met with no resistance.

Kenny’s dick gives a twitch, a generous spurt of pre-come bubbling to the tip as his eyes stay trained on Tweek’s fingers moving slowly in and out of Craig, the thumb of Tweek’s hand pressed to his clit, rubbing in lazy circles at every chance it gets. Teasing on the pull out as it moves away, never quite giving Craig the pleasure he so very much craves.

“Oh god. More.” Craig’s eyes fly open, staring at the popcorn ceiling above the bed as he moves his hips to meet Tweek on every thrust, chasing his fingers, but Tweek won’t give him the satisfaction of either going harder or faster. This is an act of pure torture, no motive other than making Craig’s thighs tremble, and Kenny is purely amazed, slack-jawed in wonder at well it works.

“Mm, maybe Kenny shouldn’t fuck you at all. You _did_ mouth off at me before.” Kenny’s head jerks to stare wide-eyed at Tweek, only to find Tweek already looking at him. He grins, one absinthian eye winking, letting Kenny know that he’s only saying this to rile Craig up. Relief floods his senses; seeing Craig like this but not getting to fuck him into a stupor in exchange of the teasing would be criminal, inhumane. Kenny doesn’t think he would survive through something like that, and as much as he knows he can always just come back from the dead, being deprived the pleasure of destroying Craig is not how he wants to go. Not now, not ever.

“No, no, no, _please,_ Tweek, I need it.” Craig’s begging is beautiful, a timbre to his voice that betrays the fact that he is on the verge of tears. They form in his eyes, blinked away so quickly that if Kenny wasn’t staring him down, he would have missed them.

“Fuck the lingerie.” The vehemence in Craig’s voice as he lifts his head to glare at Tweek is almost enough to make Kenny laugh, if he weren’t so goddamn shell-shocked by how gorgeous he is, skin glistening with sweat. Tweek, on the other hand, twists his hands and pumps his fingers just so, scraping at something inside of Craig that has his head flying back once more, jaw unhinging on a garbled moan.

“There we go, baby boy. Is that good? Right here, yeah?” Tweek does it again, and again, and Craig is nodding, groaning _yes, yes, yes, it’s so good, please don’t stop,_ and Kenny has to wrap a hand around the base of his dick before he shoots off like a rocket as Craig’s entire body comes up off the bed. Tweek is rubbing his clit with his other hand now, relentless, plucking at Craig’s body like an instrument, Craig letting himself be shamelessly toyed with. His head lolls to the side, in Kenny’s direction. When his eyes pry open again, they meet Kenny’s, dark blue aligning perfectly with sky blue, electricity charging the air between them as Craig pants and moans through plump, parted lips.

Magnetism pulls Kenny in, bending past Tweek to lay out over Craig, and if his dick is leaking all over Craig’s teddy, then he doesn’t give a single flying fuck. He kisses Craig with vigor, sucking at his tongue, his hands tangling in brown locks as Craig’s body strains and twists under him, steadfastly held down by Kenny’s bodyweight nonetheless. Like a ghost, Tweek is there, too, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the nape of Kenny’s neck. His fingers are sticky when the tap at Kenny’s hip, Craig’s breath a whine on high at what Kenny can only assume is the loss of Tweek’s touch.

Tweek’s hands are so, so gentle as they move Kenny where all three of them want him. Right between Craig’s legs, this time filled with intent. Wetness has dribbled down Craig’s thighs, whether it is sweat, or his own juices is entirely unknown, but fuck if it isn’t hot to just _feel_ it. To feel how turned on he is, how much he wants this. It is Tweek’s hand that replaces Kenny’s own at the base of his dick, guiding him to Craig’s entrance, chin hooked over Kenny’s shoulder to watch, chest plastered to Kenny’s back.

This is happening. It’s really, actually happening.

“Are you ready?” The warmth of Tweek’s minty breath paints the skin of Kenny’s face with a blown-out blush, crimson so darkened it blots out the freckles pitter-pattered out over his nose and cheeks. At his front, Craig is dripping wet, and at his back, Tweek is hard, his dick pressed to the cleft of his ass, and Kenny, sandwiched between heaven and hell, has never felt more fucking alive.

Tweek gives the final push as soon as Kenny has nodded his head, and then – everything is static. Supernovas are dancing beneath his skin, drowning out even the sound of Craig’s broken voice as Kenny breaches him, the head of his dick surrounded by soaking wet heat. The blaze of hellfire at his back vanishes, Tweek laying down alongside Craig to press loving kisses to every place he can reach as Kenny sinks in. Slowly, giving the man under him time to adjust, inch by inch. Kenny’s not huge, really, but he’s not by any means _small,_ either.

Craig’s lingerie clad body is a line of nothing but tension, Tweek whispering soothing things into his ear to try and help him relax, brushing his sweat matted hair back from his face. Kenny catches the quiet mutter of, “You’re doing so great, baby. I’m really proud of you. Look at how well you’re taking his cock, sweetheart,” and then he is bottoming out, waiting. It’s hard to stay still, so hard, when Craig feels better than anything Kenny has ever touched, let alone been inside of. Everything inside of him feels like it is sucking Kenny in, clenching around him to keep him right where he is, the groan on his tongue tasting like the perfection of what being one with Craig Tucker truly feels like.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight.” Reverence colors his voice in shades of blissed out consciousness, Craig’s mouth curling into a loose, loopy smile at the praise. He laughs, face turning to accept the kiss Tweek is offering him, chaste and tender. Kenny watches the sweet exchange with a jolt in his heart, beats skipped, beats missed entirely, still incapable of comprehending that this is his now. That this can be his whenever he wants it; he gets to be in this for as long as they’ll have him. It edges on the precipice of too much to bear, especially as Tweek pulls away from the sweet snare of Craig’s lips to say,

“You can move now.”

Kenny definitely doesn’t need to be told twice.

His movements are slow to begin with, savoring every minute feeling of Craig’s body as it twitches and gives way to his shallow thrusts. Tweek drinks in all of his little mewls, kissing them off his lips, licking them out of his mouth, hands all over Craig’s body. He drags his fingers over his stomach to feel it twitch, muscles contracting, down to his pubic bone, spindly digits rubbing teasingly there but not daring to slip any further.

There is a furrow to Craig’s brow, pinched over his mostly closed eyes. “Harder. Please.” He asks softly, breath catching every time Kenny’s dick moves in, marching to a different beat now that he’s finally gotten his way. Kenny won’t shatter the illusion of Craig being good for him just yet, but he does note that this man is a special kind of slut, a monster who can only be sated by a nice, fat dick in his wet cunt. Still, Kenny will acquiesce, because the heat of this moment deserves to be indulged – and he is only human, can only take so much.

All the way out, still slow, but he sinks back in with a hard snap of his hips, so violent it sends Craig’s body shifting up the bed, sheets tugged with him. Kenny rights him by fitting his fingers around Craig’s hips, dragging him back down with every jarring thrust so that there is no escaping it. It is so delicious to watch the way Craig’s face shutters like a borealis with every hard, deep pound into his tight body, his walls fluttering around Kenny’s dick so gratifyingly that Kenny doesn’t bother trying to keep this slow or gentle anymore.

He fucks Craig like any two-bit whore deserves to be fucked, shoving harshly into him, relishing in the way Craig turns his face and screams into his arm with each drive. Every vicious thrust pushes the useless metal headboard against the wall, and Kenny wonders if the neighbors can hear them on the other side. If they’re aware of this beautiful, darling boy getting his pussy totally wrecked by his paramour, and secretly hopes that they do know. The desire to mark, to make sure that people know Craig belongs to him – to them – is so startling that Kenny is leaning down to bite and suck at his neck before he can think better of it. Craig doesn’t mind in the least, neck stretching out to give Kenny plenty of room to work with.

On the other side of Craig’s lithe body, Tweek is watching Kenny disappear into Craig with hunger in his eyes, a hand slowly jacking his own dick, thumb sweeping over the weeping head on every upstroke. There is respectful appraisal in his gaze, his head pillowed on Craig’s chest now, just enjoying the show. And if it’s a show he wants, Kenny will make damn sure that it’s a good one.

One of Kenny’s hands moves to touch Craig’s clit, delighted in the tremor that rocks through Craig’s entire body, the breathy way he says Kenny’s name. Like a prayer, so befitting of the way his wrists are bound and held together above his head the way that they are, hands palm to palm, Kenny and Tweek the idols he worships with the due diligence of his body. What a sweet, tight, _delicious_ body, too, so responsive and receptive of Kenny’s cock as he fucks into him, harder and harder, until he is losing himself in it and growling low in his chest. Punishing, the heaven of tight heat constricting around him an otherworldly pleasure that Kenny can compare to nothing, absolutely nothing at all. Even if all the riches in the world were offered to him in this moment, Kenny would not trade this feeling for any of it; and it is more than Craig’s body.

It is the way that Tweek touches his chest, the way he kisses Craig’s ear and whispers filth into it. It is the way Craig’s back bends off the bed, his mouth open on a never-ending moan, begging Kenny to fuck him, fuck him harder. It is the magic of this, the three of them colliding like stars, creating a galaxy of their own from _nothing,_ setting the stage for the final act of a play that has reached its climax. Nothing could ever beat this, nothing could ever replace it, and Kenny would be a fool to try and deny that he is losing himself to the gravitational pull of Craig&Tweek – because it is growing, and that inevitable end is Craig&Tweek&Kenny.

“Fuck.” Heat coils in the base of his gut, hips slapping against Craig’s, the wet noises of their sex flooding the room with filth. Kenny’s stomach is tight, but he’s trying to hold it in, just a little longer – trying to get Craig off first. Tweek chooses to help him by batting away the thumb Kenny has pressed to Craig’s clit, replacing it with two of his own fingers. His other hand is still pumping his dick so leisurely you would almost think he wasn’t watching his boyfriend get absolutely railed by someone else, but the fingers he puts on Craig move with no finesse whatsoever. They are fast, dirty, rough, all the things Craig plainly loves if the way he’s shaking on the bed and pulling at his restraints are anything to go by.

“I’m – I’m gonna come.” He whimpers, teeth digging down on his lower lip hard enough to draw pinpricks of blood, sounding so small compared to how defiant and challenging he was earlier. That seems so distant a memory now. Every roll of Kenny’s hips and rub of Tweek’s trained fingers are dragging him closer and closer to his proverbial heat death, the expansion and inevitable collapse of his universe, Craig chasing it, seeking it like a man dying of thirst. His hips cannot keep still, bearing down on Kenny’s dick, lifting up to press into the circles of Tweek’s fingers, and Kenny himself is beginning to grow feverish as he watches it all take place.

Finally, though, finally, Craig splinters. Fractures. Explodes. The headboard practically bows as his arms jerk, his mouth caught between a shout and a whimper, a mix of the two squeaking out of him as he comes all around Kenny’s aching dick. Feeling the gush of him everywhere, all the way down to the marrow of his bones, Kenny can’t take it anymore; it is one, two, three more stunted thrusts into the wetness of Craig before he spills inside of him, nails carving crescents into his hips through the lace. He bends over Craig’s boneless body as he rides out his orgasm, making soft noises of his own. It seems to last so fucking long, surely longer than any orgasm Kenny has ever had before.

Pulling out hurts with how sensitive he feels, the hiss dying on the tip of his tongue when he sees just how blissed out Craig looks. Tweek has gentle hands on his face, peppering kisses all over his cheeks, his closed eyelids, his nose. It isn’t until Kenny is shifting back that he realizes how hard Tweek still is. He hasn’t come yet.

Kenny blinks. “Do you, uh, want me to…” He makes a gesture at Tweek’s crotch, but Tweek is smiling at him fondly while shaking his head. He reaches up to make quick work of the rope around Craig’s bound wrists. As soon as Craig has that mobility again, he is touching all over Tweek, his hair, his face, his bare chest, and Tweek is rolling onto his back, taking Craig with him.

“I think he can take a little more.” Tweek says congenially, almost conversational, with his hands sliding up Craig’s torso, fingernails catching in pink lace and embellishments. “Can’t you, kitten?”

Craig nods wordlessly, already moving, though surely his body must be so tired and weak by now. There are welts around his wrists where he has pulled too hard, red, harsh, angry. None of this, however, stops him from pushing up with his thighs and guiding Tweek’s dick into his used hole. The glide down is made all the easier with Kenny’s cum guiding the way. Kenny curses under his breath, watching in awe as Craig sets to work riding Tweek’s dick. He doesn’t move very much, but it seems like that’s the way Tweek prefers it. Deep, heavy undulations of Craig’s hips that keep him nice and snug inside of Craig’s body, so far in that Kenny wonders if he might be able to feel his cervix.

Tweek’s eyes are closed, hair drenched with sweat, his head on the pillow and his hands moving slowly up and down Craig’s body. Craig turns his head lazily to look over his shoulder, locking eyes with Kenny and jerking his chin up like he had done before. Asking for a kiss. Kenny crawls over to them and gives him what he wants, the symphony of Craig’s slick body and Kenny’s own seed squelching so filthily, but it is music to Kenny’s ears. He’s always preferred it messy, just like this, and it is heady relief knowing that he does not have to change any of his strange proclivities, because they are met match for match.

This time, with his hands free to do whatever they please, Craig wraps a hand around the back of Kenny’s head and moves him the way he wants him, kissing him languidly, everything slick with spit and sweat. They take their time, making out while Craig uses his fucked out body to drive Tweek closer and closer to his doom, intoxicating little pants and grunts from below every time Craig moves his hips over him.

“I want to ride _you_ next time.” Craig whispers into Kenny’s mouth suddenly, taking one of Kenny’s hands and dragging it to his clit, letting Kenny take the hint and get down to business. At this angle, with every motion he makes Kenny’s hand is rubbing against Craig’s lingerie, but if touching Craig means he has to have a chafed wrist later, then so fucking be it. All he really cares about right now is this sinful imagery Craig is spinning, laying his desires out bare for Kenny to dissect and soak in. “I want to ride you so long that you’re begging to come in me, and I want Tweek to fuck you while I do it. I’ve had – _fuck_ – I’ve had dreams about that, about all of us being connected, so tied up in each other that we have no fucking idea where any of us end or begin.”

Kenny nods, loving the sound of that, wanting it more than he could put words to, hand moving fast over Craig’s clit, and Tweek is starting to lose his rhythm inside of him. Craig leans back, hands braced on the firm muscle of Tweek’s thighs, and abandons all acts of delicacy, diplomacy lost in his need to make Tweek come. Up, down, no remorse as he rides Tweek’s cock and Kenny’s fingers, and when he comes again, it is a much more subtle orgasm than Tweek’s, whose body spasms and jerks as he clutches one hand at Craig’s leg, the other flying into his hair as he comes, and comes, and comes. Kenny looks down at him, but Tweek is already watching him, the way he always seems to be, so attuned to the world around him, and his smile is gaspingly, beautifully wild.

After Tweek has come down from his orgasm and Craig has come down from his second, Craig peels off his lingerie with no amount of fanfare, the complete antithesis of how he’d been when showing it off earlier. He throws the set into the dirty clothes pile in the corner of the room and crawls, naked, back onto the bed, flinging himself down beside Tweek and curling into his open arms. Kenny isn’t exactly sure what to do with himself, where he fits, so he spends a moment or two fretting over it. The two of them look so domestically comfortable together that it’s hard to imagine a place for him in any of this, the insecurities he battles daily creeping back in through the cracks now that he isn’t lost to the throes of passion.

Tweek kisses Craig’s sweaty forehead and holds him close, murmuring things that make Craig puff quiet laughter, and Kenny feels… wrong. Like he’s imposing. And maybe all of this _was_ just about the sex, maybe they _don’t_ want him to be a third in their relationship.

His stomach churns with anguish. Just as he moves to get off the bed, though, Craig catches his hand. Kenny hadn’t realized Craig was even paying attention to him, but he certainly is now, his grip preventing Kenny from moving even an inch further.

“Get over here, dumbass.” He says, Tweek shoving at his shoulder, saying his name so chastising that Kenny really feels for him. “I like to spoon after sex, and like hell you’re going to just come in me and then leave. You fucked us. You’re in it for good now, so come be big spoon, and stop harshing my goddamn afterglow with your stupid fucking angst.”

For a second, Kenny blinks from the shock of being read so easily, but then his face bursts alight with a flamingly bright smile, barreling down into Craig’s back and wrapping around him like a koala, legs tangling, and arms locked around his midsection. Tweek and Craig both laugh at his reignited enthusiasm, and after a second, Kenny realizes that, yeah, he was definitely just angsting for no good reason. He presses a dizzy kiss to Craig’s shoulder, feeling one of Tweek’s hands reach across to rub at his arm, to pull him in nice and snug.

“This is fucking rad.” Kenny’s voice is saturated with wonder, the pleasing sound of Tweek’s stilted laughter filling him up, and between the two of them, Craig rolls his eyes. But he’s nodding, and so is Tweek, and Kenny is happy to say that he really, really is in it for good. Hook, line, and sinker. Act. Scene. Curtain.

No take-backs.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/disastergore) .


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